by SUNSHINE DIEM
Photo taken in NYC, NY by Mckenna Haverluk 9/15/22
Roughly 7 months ago, I made the hasty decision to pack up my life and move 2,000 miles away. The word hasty is not to be taken lightly. I booked my ticket and was on a plane no less than a week later. Within that week, I made a vain attempt to tie up loose ends, say my goodbyes, and pack my suitcase.
Up until this move, I had a paradoxid, shrewd view of the world. I knew nothing, and in that, I knew everything. By adopting a "free bird" lifestyle, throwing all my time and money into other people and/or travel, and leaving my past behind me in North Dakota, I would figure it all out. What I did not realize, I was running away.
It was the best decision I have ever made.
By forcing myself out of my toxic mindset, and diving into a chapter of self-discovery and service, I learned more about myself than I ever presumed possible.
I grew up in an intellectual household. Nobody at our table had education past a bachelor's degree, but my parents fostered an environment of reflection and articulation. In this environment, our family dinners frequently consisted of reflective conversation. A reoccurring theme was, "The Meaning of Life." A tiresome, but worthy cliché, we beat this topic to death. Without fail, my dad was always of the opinion that the meaning of life was service. I now find myself understanding, and dare I say, agreeing with him.
The purpose of my move was to care for my grandparents in their old age. I had medical training, I was single, I was in a combative phase with my education, and had been looking for an escape from my home state for quite some time. I received ample warning from friends and family alike: The dangers of taking a break from education, the dangers of not having a social life, the dangers of thrusting myself into an emotionally taxing situation. While all these warnings proved themselves true in various shapes and forms, nobody warned me of something very significant: I would have to meet myself, beyond the bounds of what I have always known.
When one leaves a life behind, they must craft a new one.
Below, is a reflective poem I wrote while I was away.
"To Love Me"
Sitting down to write because I am going to implode.
Sitting down.
A prospective luxury.
I have spent the years running. Not feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, no, feeling the weight of the world on my back.
Running.
Running as fast as my legs would take me.
All a vain attempt to shake it off my back, as if it was not clinging on to me, holding me by the throat.
If I ran fast enough the weight would fall off, right?
Right?
I would be set free.
To my surprise, it worked, but only in an objective sense.
I fell.
My legs gave out under its weight. Sheer exhaustion ripped me to the ground. My face was battered and scratched by the fall.
The insurmountable weight I had been carrying shattered beside me like glass.
I picked myself up and scanned the fragments scattered at my feet. I realized my feet were bare, torn, and bleeding. I reached down to pick up the pieces, each fragment having its turn at cutting into my hands, leaving them raw.
Through foggy, tear-soaked eyes, I read each shard like a story.
Piecing them back together on the ground, they began to form a silhouette. With bloody hands, I wiped the tears. My eyes now stained red, burning from the salt and blood, I looked down. The silhouette.
Her.
Her skin, reflecting every color of the rainbow.
Her eyes, communicating sorrow and tenderness.
Her hands calloused yet soft. The kind any set of human hands would like to hold.
Her hips, beating and red, as if her heart was there and not in her chest.
Her throat, battered, as if she had been choked into silence. Like she had spent her whole life screaming into the void.
The image of countless faces reflected on various parts of her body. I recognized most of them. It was as if they had found a home within her skin. Was she their refuge, or was she their prison?
As the stinging in my eyes ceased and my vision cleared, I saw her take life.
She stepped toward me. My mind told me to run, but my feet took me nowhere. She wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear.
Before I could make out what she was saying, I panicked and pulled away. As I pulled back, she grabbed my hand and pulled me back into her. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Suddenly, I felt a gentle kiss on my forehead. Peace washed over me like a river. All the pain in my hands and feet washed away.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. We were standing nose to nose.
A nose all too familiar.
Eyes I had seen a million times before.
Lips I could pick out in a crowd of millions.
I was standing face to face with myself.
All this time, I had been running from myself, and all she wanted was to love me.